


ándele, ándele, e.i, e.i, uh oh

by forfree



Category: RPF - Fandom
Genre: F/M, bands!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-04
Updated: 2017-02-04
Packaged: 2018-09-21 21:33:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9567680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forfree/pseuds/forfree
Summary: Jordan looks for who seems to be the love of his life. Can he find her? Can he make it work?





	1. MARCH

 

Jordan Ullman was not stressing about love. If love came in the form of a 5’7” lyricist who wrote and took photos for the local newspaper, the 23 year old was  _ definitely _ not stressing over it. Not at all. 

 

Jordan’s thoughts and time were explicitly, absolutely, undeniably, expressly, unquestionably  **_NOT_ **   dedicated to B. “Stinger” Knowles.

  
  
  


Jordan discovered Beyoncé one afternoon a few weeks into the month of March when he’d been looking for a way to pass the time inside; it’d been too cold to go outside and play soccer like he usually did. Apparently, a picture of Jordan’s band (he and his friends can’t decide on a name for it at the moment) had been used in the the newspaper that his parents got every day. He’d always get the paper for them before he left for work. 

 

(In Jordan’s case, “work” consisted of promoting his band, sitting at the coffee shop down the street from his house and writing songs, finding venues that his band could perform at, etc; he could never get a real job in a million years)

 

He never really paid attention to the newspaper even though he was an adult, and adults should always be aware of current events as his mother claimed. Last week, she had seen the band’s picture in the paper while she read it before bed like she did every night; by the time she went to tell Jordan, he was asleep, so she’d just left the paper on his dresser. After days of Jordan’s mom reminding him to check out the newspaper and him promising to do so and forgetting, he finally got to reading it like his mom asked him to. If it weren’t for the weather, his boredom, and his mother, he would’ve never heard of or met Beyoncé Knowles.

 

He lazily flipped through the newspaper until he found the picture he was looking for. It was a photo of the gig they’d done around two weeks ago, right after they’d finished their set. It had been at the biggest venue they’d played in the short time they’d been a band (Jordan’s band formed five months ago), and the adrenaline he and his three friends had shared that night could still be felt as he looked at the photo. Majid (the band’s lead singer; for a short 18 year old, he had a powerful voice and an amazing stage presence) had the biggest smile on his face, the trucker hat he was wearing sitting crookedly on his head, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. Aubrey (he was the guitarist and baby of the band; the 17 year old was responsible for Majid and Jordan meeting each other) was, unsurprisingly, all smiles as he looked at the crowd, who’d begged for an encore (because the band was that great, obviously).

 

Travis, the band’s drummer (and, in Jordan’s opinion, the glue that held the band together), had a soft smile on his face. He was looking directly into the camera. Jordan assumed that Travis knew the photo was taken and that he just forgot to tell the rest of the guys. Jordan smiled fondly. Travis was always a humble guy. He didn’t really stand out compared to the rest of the band, even though he looked reasonably intimidating with all of the tattoos that littered his torso and his neutral facial expression, which always made him look slightly pissed. 

 

As Jordan continued to look at the photo, his eyes fell on the fourth and final member of the band; a 23 year old bassist who moved back in with his parents after four years of living on his own because he used all of his money to buy a shitty, overpriced van and start a band: Jordan Ullman.

 

In the photo, he (surprisingly) wasn’t smiling. He looked as if he were deeply contemplating something or as if he’d been trying to come to grips with the fact that people were screaming for him and his friends. He can remember exactly how he was feeling, too; he realized that all of those people whooping and hollering for him and his friends had lives outside of that club they played. He realized that things finally felt like they were falling into place, and that he wasn’t necessarily drifting through life hoping for the best anymore; he was making things happen, and his friends were there to do it with him. 

 

That night, Jordan cut the picture out of the newspaper after he read the article that went with it. The article was written by a B. Knowles, and it discussed underground shows and how they give the city of Chicago liveliness that can’t be described accurately unless you see it for yourself.

 

_//_ _“Uh, hi everyone, we’re- uh-”_

 

_ “Boner Party,” the drummer, Travis Barker, interrupted bassist and obvious star of the band, Jordan Ullman, with a laugh. _

 

_ “Travis! Fuck off, man,” a younger boy in a trucker hat said as he joined Ullman and Barker in their laughter. _

 

_ “We haven’t thought of a name yet,” the Ullman said, laughing nervously as he fiddled with his bass.  _

 

_ The audience laughed. You could tell the guy was nervous, but everyone’s laughter seemed to give the atmosphere a comfortable feel, making one feel as if they were at a small get together with old friends.  _

 

_ I had a drink or two, so I was feeling like a comedian. I decided to pipe up. _

 

_ “Monster Squad! Call yourselves Monster Squad,” I humorously suggested over the slight noise. _

 

_ The boy in the trucker hat smiled, pointing at me and nodding as turned to the bassist and said, “Jordan, we should call ourselves that! Who doesn’t love obscure superhero references?” _

 

_ Everyone laughed, including Jordan. _

 

_ “We’ll think about it, man, but we gotta change it up so we don’t get our asses sued before we even get big,” Jordan said, the tension that was so previously evident in him completely gone as he laughed some more. _

 

_ On Sunday afternoon, this was an example of the many awesome things I saw and heard from a  nameless, unknown band full of young guys as they played a show so good that I don’t think I’ll ever forget it. // _

  
  


Jordan couldn’t stop reading that first section of the article. It practically stuck to his brain. He’s pretty sure he’s got it memorized, and that makes him laugh because those memory skills would’ve been nice to have when he was in high school. This B. Knowles person really seemed to like Jordan’s band. Jordan looked at the portrait next to the author’s name.

 

Even though that picture was a small, black and white one, this woman’s beauty shined through nonetheless. Out of all her beautiful features, Jordan noticed her eyes first. They were kind, warm, easy, thoughtful; Jordan could go on, he thinks, but he needs to save the rest of those adjectives for songwriting.

 

She had a delicate smile, full lips, flawless skin (like, what the fuck? Jordan is younger than him and zits still love to take vacations on his face). To sum things up, this girl was practically a model. If Jordan thinks about her any more than he is now, he’d just be enabling himself to have some silly crush on someone he barely knows; teenager-like infatuation is something Jordan has absolutely no time for.

 

Actually, forget that.

 

Jordan had to see her in real life. He had to thank her for the positive review of his band and he had to know what this beautiful woman looked like aside from small, colorless photographs and dim club lights. 

 

Was it a challenge? Yes.

 

Does Jordan Ullman back down from challenges? 

 

No.

 


	2. APRIL

Jordan still hadn’t found B. Knowles, and it was driving him up the wall.

 

He’d looked for info about the author online, and he’d found her profile on the website for the local newspaper.

 

_ // B. Knowles is a 26 year old from Houston, Texas. At the age of 18, she moved to New Jersey, where she joined Destiny’s Child, a singing group that changed their lineup more often than not and were a collective powerhouse. In 2011, she and the last two members of Destiny’s Child relocated to Chicago to take a dip in the city’s well-known music scene.  _

 

_ During that year, Knowles went to the University of Chicago, where she majored in journalism and minored in photography. While working on her degrees, she performed with Destiny’s Child using her first name, quickly becoming popular in Chicago's underground music scene. _

_ After graduating in May 2014, Knowles pursued a career in freelance journalism for a short amount of time before coming to work for the Wilmette Herald in December of the same year.  _

 

_ Knowles’ interests include music, high fashion, dogs, and tending to her garden when she’s not out sniffing around for a story to tell. // _

 

Jordan must’ve read that profile about one hundred times as he carried out his daily routine. Today’s schedule had been slightly different. Jordan had been burdened with the task of printing out flyers for the band’s next gig (Aubrey had done it last time and he’d fucked it up, so, like everything else in his life, Jordan had to do it himself). They were playing at the same venue that the woman from the newspaper had written about, and they still didn’t have a name. That fact seemed to draw more people in, seeing as people have told him how much they love the mystery that came with that.

 

As Jordan made copies of the flyer he’d made at home (he wasn’t a computer geek or anything, but he was pretty good at Photoshop if you asked him; the flyers looked great), he thought about Beyoncé. She seemed very talented, and he shared some interests with Jordan. As he got his copies and headed to the coffee shop, he couldn’t stop thinking about meeting her. How would her voice sound without a large crowd’s murmurs overshadowing it? Is she tall? What music does she like? What kind of guys does she like?

 

“Wait, is she even single?” Jordan asked himself, unintentionally startling the people walking next to him with his unexpected outburst. 

 

A young woman walking next to him gave him a look of annoyance.

 

“Sorry,” Jordan said.

 

As he continued the short walk to the coffee shop, Jordan realized that he’d never heard any of Beyoncé & Destiny’s Child’s music. He made a mental note to check their music out was soon as he got to the coffee shop.

 

When he got to the coffee shop, he said hello to the barista, Axl. He hated his boss and made it known to just about everyone except for his boss, but it was honest work. (Axl did it because he wanted some extra money to go toward making music. That’s why the two were so close. They had similar dreams.) Jordan also greeted the regulars, which consisted of a few college students and an elderly couple who sat in the same booth on their daily dates.

 

Jordan wanted that. He wanted to go through life with someone good beside him, and he didn’t want to wait until he was old. He was young; he had a whole life ahead of him, and he didn’t want to experience everything life had to offer by himself. Yeah, he had Majid, Aubrey, and Travis to possibly see the world and live life with, but he wanted someone that he could give his heart to and maybe even settle down with one day. 

 

Jordan sighed. He realized that even though he had three good friends, a nice family, and a few other acquaintances, he was pretty lonely.

 

He was ready for new things; better things, things so amazing that he’d never forget them until the day he died. As he thought, he wrote lyrics on a napkin. Most of the time his lyrics were so jumbled and out of place because he liked to write things based on what he thought about. His mind always raced with so many different thoughts and feelings about different things and people that it made his head spin sometimes.

 

So Jordan’s hand moved at what seemed like a hundred miles an hour as he wrote.

 

**why why why won’t the world revolve around me? / ??????**

 

**but i don’t know much about classic cars / but i’ve got a lot of friends stuck on classic coke**

 

**down, set, one / hut hut hike / media blitz / let’s hear it for america’s suitehearts / but i must confess**

 

**???? ??? ???**

 

Jordan was frustrated now. There were so many questions in life that he needed answers to, and most of them were pertaining to Beyoncé. In addition to his brain being fogged up by that, he was also trying to tell himself not to get his hopes up when it came to Beyoncé possibly being at this gig. She probably had other artists to write about; she probably had other places to see. She hadn’t even written anything about coming to see Jordan, Majid, Aubrey, and Travis again; why was he so hopelessly optimistic about this?

 

Jordan decided to listen to some music to get his mind off of everything. He looked Beyoncé’s name up on his phone, going to the page of images that showed up under his name. This girl had otherworldly looks to say the least, and her smile could light up the entire state of Illinois; Jordan was sure of it. He looked at pictures of Beyoncé performing, and honestly loved how happy she seemed to be on stage. Just like the photo of his band in the paper, energy and excitement seemed to jump out from each photo he saw. 

 

Jordan figured he’d spent enough time fawning over Beyoncé’s appearance and that he should see if her music was just as good. He looked for some of his songs online, finding one titled “Sexy Daddy,” the risqué title catching his attention.

 

The song was upbeat, so much so that it made Jordan want to jump up. The chorus also made him wonder who- also what- this was inspired by.

 

**_Sweetie pie, I think it's your lucky night /_ **

**_I'm getting buck wild tonight /_ **

**_I'm gonna have fun, fun, fun, fun /_ **

**_Sweetie pie, I think it's your lucky night /_ **

**_I'm getting buck wild tonight /_ **

**_I'm gonna have fun, fun, fun, fun_ **

  
  


The group’s tone and words carried a fun-loving sentiment that Jordan could relate to so well. It made him wiggle around in his seat a little. 

 

As he listened to the same song for what had to be at least twenty minutes, he saw a glazed donut and some coffee being placed in front of him. Startled out of his trance, Jordan looked up to see Axl looking down at him.

 

“Huh? I didn’t order anything,” Jordan said.

 

“I know, but you seem pretty stressed out, man. It’s on the house,” Axl said. “You’re like, our most frequent customer anyway.”

 

“Thanks, man,” Jordan replied. “ but yeah, I’m just kinda stressed over this girl I barely even know.”

 

“Damn, that’s tough shit, my nigga. What’s she like?”

 

Axl was one of the few people Jordan had come out to since he’d finally came to terms with the fact that he was bisexual a few months before. Axl was gay, so Jordan figured he could trust him to understand how stressful everything was for him at the moment, especially since Axl told him about how he’s got an embarrassing crush on his friend Daniel.

 

“She’s a writer and a photographer AND a singer. She’s practically a model, too. She’s like, everything I’m not, pretty much. She came to our show like, last month and wrote about how much she liked us in an article about it, and now I’m stressing myself out for no discernable reason. I think that there’s a chance that she’s gonna come to our next gig, even though I know she’s probably not.”

 

Axl’s face lit up and his hands slapped the table as he started to speak loudly. “I’ve read that article! I know who you’re talking about!”

 

Axl’s manager came from the back room with a scowl on her face. “Axl, what are you doing? Get back behind the counter and stop yelling. You don’t get paid to yell and fraternize with customers.”

 

Axl swore under his breath before nodding at his manager and watching her walk back into the back room. He turned back to Jordan, keeping his voice lowered as he said, “I know who you’re talking about. Beyoncé, right?”

 

“Yeah! What do you know about her?” Jordan asked, getting his hopes up.

 

“We’re friends. She makes me go to concerts with her sometimes, and she wouldn’t stop talking about some unnamed band that month. I didn’t even begin to think about how she could’ve been talking about you guys,” Axl said. “Beyoncé said she wants to see you guys again sometime, if I’m remembering things right.”

 

Jordan could’ve sworn he almost fainted or that he was hearing things. As soon as he got over his initial shock, his brain started working at high speed until he got the best ideas he’d probably ever had in his entire life.

 

“Hey, you don’t have anything to do next week, do you, Axl?” Jordan asked.

 

“No. Why, bro?” Axl replied.

 

Jordan reached for the flyers he’d had left over and handed one to Axl. “Be there, and bring Beyoncé if you can. Bring Daniel too, it’s always pretty cute to make moves on someone at a concert. Be there or be square,” Jordan said without a hint of sarcasm, grabbing his donut and his (now completely cold) coffee and heading out, not even giving Axl enough time to reply.

  
  


The gig was in a week, and Jordan was practicing harder (and more frequently) than ever. He doesn’t really doubt his bass-playing abilities or anything, but he wanted to make sure that everything was absolutely perfect for when Beyoncé possibly came to see him. If Jordan had the guts and the patience to (and if Majid let him; bless the kid’s soul), he’d practice until his fingers bled.

 

There’s a catch, though.

 

Jordan was making Majid, Aubrey, and Travis practice right along with him, and they absolutely despised Jordan for it; in Majid’s words, he was “kind of being a dick” about all of it. Jordan wouldn’t tell them why he was making them practice twice as much, and it was driving them mad. When anyone would question it, he’d get sort of touchy.

 

One night, after an especially long practice session, Aubrey confronted Jordan. Aubrey sat on the hood of the beat-up minivan he borrowed from his cousin to come to practice and patted the empty spot next to him. Jordan sat down next to him with a confused expression on his face.

 

“Aubrey, what’s going on?” Jordan asked. Aubrey and Jordan were good friends and they talked often, but they never really sat and talked like this.

 

“Alright, man, talk to me. Why are you acting like this?” Aubrey replied, looking at Jordan as if to say, “Something’s going on, and we’re not leaving until I found out what it is,” and Jordan knew he couldn’t talk his way out of this, but he’d be damned if he didn’t try to stall. 

 

Talking about love and everything related to it was such a drag; at least, it was a drag in Jordan’s opinion. Unless he was writing a song about it, he didn’t ever want to discuss love. It made him tired because it almost never did him any good. The only good relationship Jordan’s ever had happened almost a year ago, and the girl he was with left him because she actually wanted to do something productive with her life and she didn’t want a guy who was about to go back to living with his parents by her side while she did it.

 

“Why am I like what?” Jordan asked, praying to just about any deity in existence that Aubrey would let it go.

 

“Why are you making us practice extra, bro? None of us are mad or anything but- well... Like, we’ve all had to cancel good plans because you keep calling us to practice at random times and you won’t even tell us why, so what’s really going on?”

 

Aubrey was a pretty easygoing guy, and he usually never tried to force anything out of anyone, but Jordan could tell that he was serious about finding out what’s got Jordan so wound up as of late. Jordan took a deep breath, exhaling loudly. 

 

Jordan was definitely NOT getting out of this one.

 

“What’s eating Jordan Ullman?” Aubrey asked as he looked at Jordan, who gave him a confused look. “Get it? Like that movie,  _ What’s Eating Gilbert Grape _ .” Aubrey said with a laugh.

 

Jordan looked at Aubrey like he had an extra eye growing in the middle of his forehead. “Dude, that movie is really sad,” Jordan said, causing Aubrey’s laughter to cease.

 

“True,” Aubrey said, “Really though, what’s going on?”

“So, you remember that girl who wrote about us in her article and took a picture of us at that gig last month?” Jordan asked, trying his best to keep himself as composed as possible so that Aubrey couldn’t tell he was slightly embarrassed at the moment.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Well- like- I… I made the really bad mistake of looking her up about a week after that performance we did, and now I kinda know everything about her and she may or may not be coming back to see us play next week and-”

 

Aubrey snorted and gave Jordan a look of disbelief. “So you’ve been stressing out over a girl? Mr. “I’m boycotting love, fuck love, love isn’t real” Ullman is stressing out over a girl? I’m not surprised, and Majid owes me twenty dollars.”

 

“What the fuck? Why? Are you guys betting on me?” Jordan asked incredulously. 

 

“Oh, I bet Majid that you’d fall for someone again in less than a year. It’s only been ten months,” Aubrey explained.

 

“Dude, that fucking sucks, fuck you,” Jordan said, trying to sound as if he were actually upset by what Aubrey had told him, attempting to hide his laughter. 

 

“Sure, that sucks, but I think that putting us and yourself under all of this stress sucks a little more, don’t you think, bro?” Aubrey asked.

 

Jordan looked down at his lap as he messed with the loose threads of his tattered jeans, trying his hardest to avoid the knowing look he knew Aubrey was giving him.

 

“Jordan, come on.”

 

Jordan looked up at Aubrey with an expression similar to one a guilty child would make when they’re caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

 

“Listen, I’m sorry I’ve been being a dick,” Jordan replied, “But I really like this girl, and I don’t know what to do about it, I’m kinda freaking out.”

 

Aubrey nodded, patting Jordan on the back. “I understand, dude. I’m just glad I figured out what’s wrong,” Aubrey said. “You know you can come to any of us for anything, right, Jordan?”

 

“Yeah,” Jordan muttered, “I should’ve come to you guys first.”

 

“Do you think you wanna talk about this girl and get everything off your chest?” Aubrey asked.

 

“Yeah, definitely,” Jordan said, resting his head on Aubrey’s shoulder as he began to tell his friend everything he should have told him from the start.

 

A few days later during the week of the gig, Jordan told everyone else everything.

 

“So you’re not mad?” Jordan asked shyly.

 

“No! Why would we ever be mad at you for that, Jordan?” Majid asked. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, if you’d have held off on telling us about this for a few more months I would’ve gotten twenty bucks, but that’s not important.”

 

“It’s important to  _ me _ ! Pay up, bitch!” Aubrey interrupted as he stood uncomfortably close to Majid while he fished a twenty dollar bill out of his wallet, yanking it out of his hand and turning to Jordan. “Jordan, thanks for falling hopelessly in love with some random chick, and Majid, thanks for not being a sore loser.”

 

“Anytime.” Majid returned with a chuckle.

 

“I can’t believe you guys fuckin’ bet on me,” Jordan griped. “You know what they say though, ‘no honor among thieves’ and all that crap.”

 

“C’mon, Jordan. You know you love us!” Majid exclaimed as he slung an arm around Jordan’s shoulders. “We’re not thieves either, so that saying makes no sense.”

 

“Yeah, don’t be such a Debbie Downer,” Travis said, patting Jordan’s back and laughing.

  
“I may be getting money out of your pining, emo,” Aubrey gestures to Jordan, trying to think of a word that isn’t offensive, “...stuff, but I care about you, bro.” Aubrey hugged Jordan, causing him to drop his attitude and hug him back.


End file.
